The Song of Eternal Love
by reminiscent-afterthought
Summary: He could have continued on, if they hadn't cut his heart out of its shell and exposed it to the world again…


**A/N: **For the gx_100 challenge, theme 25) "a falter", and the 31_days challenge, [09 January 2013] "Alienation produces eccentrics or revolutionaries."

I know in the anime Fubuki states that Fujiwara's talent surpasses his own and Ryou's, however that would just mean that under the assumption everyone is duelling with their hearts, Fujiwara would be able to defeat them both. However, if Fujiwara's heart is not 100% in the duel, like Judai's at the beginning of his graduation match with Ryou, then the results can be different. And as Honest is a fairy-type light attribute, I've given Fujiwara a deck that matches that theme.

Also, Ryou is not one of the scholarship students, nor did he go to the prep school that gives him entry directly into Obelisk. This is because Shou has to do the entrance exam, so I assume that if Ryou went to the prep school, his brother would have been sent there as well. Therefore he starts out as a Ra yellow and gets promoted in the first advancement duel of the year. I'm also assuming Fubuki uses his dragons on a regular basis before Darkness, as he refers to Red Eyes Black Dragon as a precious partner and shows this in the third season when stabilising the portal as well as the fourth season after regaining his memories outside of Darkness' power.

* * *

**The Song of Eternal Love**

( - )

Honest had come to him like an angel in the darkness, a literal figure of ephemeral light in the wake of his parents' death. His presence provided a sense of detached comfort, for whatever else he could be he was not tangible nor human, even if it did not take long at all for him to find a special place in Fujiwara's heart. Honest couldn't brush away his tears and offer his embrace as a burrow within which nothing else could ever touch him again.

It wasn't from lack of trying, and young as he was, Fujiwara was forced to accept that Honest did not have a physical place in their world save as a card. But there was an underlining relief to that, because Honest also could not be hurt or die like his parents.

It was naïve to think though that Honest would live forever because of that. Or be with him forever. But still, despite knowing that, he gravitated away from his classmates and towards the spirit; he didn't stop smiling, offering a hand, but what was once an invitation had become a wall, or a shield. An unspoken barrier was drawn, and the whispers of how his parents' death had turned him inward – a sad, lost and lonely soul – were set upon the wind. But whenever asked, the smile would return, appearing kind but at the same time possessing a sense of finality about it, and he would say he was okay.

And he _was_ okay. Because he made an effort not to remember, save for the frozen smiles in a single Polaroid image that, like Honest's card, could not become maimed with cruel reality.

( - )

He was careless. And wrong.

Honest was not indestructible. In all honesty he should have – did – know that, but just shy from adolescence he still clung to some of that naivety, looking at bits of the world still as black and white. Even as he grew older and blossomed into an adult, he knew that there _were_ things that existed in black and white, but precious few of them.

It was an isolated incident. It might have been jest, or there may have been some underlining enmity involved. That didn't matter; what mattered was the scream that reached him like an echo over the crinkling of a card gripped too hard, faded and fuzzed but at full quality and clarity probably enough to cause his eardrums to bleed. But he latched onto that incident with all ten fingers, trying to find out more about the game that had started out with a simple hobby and the spirit world.

It was easier to forget, when his heart was filled with new knowledge and his body was tired. And even though the time he spent talking with Honest grew sparser, it was all worth it.

( - )

As he grew older and advanced further through the world, more resources became available to him, and more questions. Entering into a prep school specialising in duelling – a school guaranteed to lead to Duel Academia and the wealth of duelling knowledge it housed – allowed him to further his knowledge and his search. Some of the texts were hard to understand at first, not in conventional Japanese and some not in Japanese at all, but they were few and far between. It was, after all, a school to prepare one for the next level. However the history and abstract art that was told in the books upon those shelves were still enough to absorb his attention.

By the time he graduated and was accepted into Duel Academia, he wondered what the new school could offer him. By no means had he found an end to the cycle into which he had plunged; the world where Honest existed in body and soul was as untouchable as it had always been, even if he knew more about it. But it was all riddled with speculation; there was no proof, no path…just a heap of child-safe material for a child-safe school.

It became frustrating, after a while. But even when using other resources, he found nothing of use. And sometimes he would stop and wonder _why_ it was so important to find something. In fact, there were times wherein he could not remember what he had begun to look for.

It didn't matter though, as long as he was looking for something…

( - )

Duel Academia was not what he had expected. For one, the resources it had was the envy of any museum. But beyond that, there was something about the atmosphere. The Obelisk Blues were either secluded, overconfident and arrogant, or conversely underconfident. The Ra Yellows aspired to reach the top or to dive into something and untangle it at the roots. The Orisis Reds though were perhaps the most interesting; there were some rather preppy first years amidst those bumped out at being at the bottom of the barrel.

Fujiwara found himself pleased enough at the accommodations; graduating from the prep school saw him to Obelisk, and the luxuries that came with it were to be envied. In fact, it had seemed at first sight to be more of a hotel room than a school dorm, however he would not be sharing a room with anybody and the space at his disposal were the most important things.

He spent a lot of his initial days at the library, working through which books he hadn't yet read from elsewhere. He was still searching for something – and it was like he simply could not stop.

( - )

Fujiwara didn't know why most Orisis students were in their position, however he could see why Tenjoin Fubuki had been placed there, for where else did a student who played the guitar in a library belong?

Or he had, from the red shirt, assumed the other was in Orisis anyway. He had introduced himself once realising that he'd managed to drive every other occupant around the shelves pertaining to the Shadow Games away to other sections.

The name hadn't rung any bells, and so Fujiwara had simply introduced himself in return with a polite nod and returned to his work.

'What are you researching?' Fubuki looked over the other's shoulder. 'Duel Spirits. A little abstract, don't you think?'

'No,' Fujiwara responded, a little surprised the other seemed to be pushing for a conversation. 'Not at all.'

The shadow of Honest fell across the book he had just been reading: a pale shadow, barely discernable in the light.

'No?' the brunet repeated curiously, disregarding proper decorum and setting himself atop the table. 'Bonds exist between a duellist and their cards, but how can we prove it physically? Those bonds aren't tangible; they're through emotion: spirit, and heart.' A loose hand rang a few strings of the guitar. 'Similarly to fate; no matter how many times a seer predicts the future correctly, they can't physically prove the future can be predicted. At the most, it's a theorem with circumstantial secondary evidence supporting it, so I think in that case it is an abstract area of study.'

Leaving the other to mull over that, he stood. 'Man, I'm hungry. Let's go grab a bite at the dorms.'

And he led the other to the Obelisk cafeteria.

( - )

Fubuki was…persistent. He started appearing at the library every day, and Fujiwara found he couldn't exactly avoid the other. And he was sitting on the vacant spot beside him, leaving the translucent Honest a little affronted, although the Duel Spirit would be the first to say he was glad somebody was making an effort to break through the wall Fujiwara had built around himself. From that perspective, his seat was a small price to pay, particularly as he didn't physically require it.

'Do you think this red jacket's too plain?' Fubuki asked one day, tugging at the very article that had led the other to think he was an Orisis. 'Looks too much like the Orisis uniform if you ask me, although the red's obviously _much_ darker. That lighter red would be quite unbecoming.'

Fujiwara honestly saw no difference in colours.

'I wonder if floral patterns would look better.'

'Floral?' Fujiwara repeated.

'Yeah, let's go see if Tome-san has any.'

He looked over to what the other had been working on. 'Seriously, do you do anything _but_ study?'

And he promptly dragged the other off. And many other occasions followed, because Fubuki was naturally stubborn and if he decided to befriend someone, there was really no getting around it without a legitimate reason.

And honestly, Fujiwara had none.

( - )

Fujiwara wasn't a particularly proud person, however he was an intense a duellist as any other at the academy, and it had been a long time since he had been defeated. Therefore, to lose against the top freshman of the Ra dorms came as quite a shock, as even Honest's ability failed to defeat Cyber End Dragon.

Fubuki, who was watching, had a good laugh.

'He beat me too,' he said with a helpless shrug, before turning to the opponent. 'You know, you never introduced yourself.'

'Marufuji Ryou,' the Cyber duellist said.

( - )

It wasn't long before Ryou was promoted to Obelisk, and Fubuki was dragging him with the spare arm. It appeared that Ryou had yet again a different approach to Duel Spirits: his sat somewhere in between the other two.

It also wasn't long before Fubuki challenged Ryou to a rematch…and lost again.

'I was almost there,' he grumbled, but good-naturedly. One who knew him well though could see the gears turning behind those brown eyes. As boisterous as he was with things, duelling was something he still took seriously, even if it had taken Fujiwara a little while to understand that.

Fubuki must have caught something because suddenly he was on Fujiwara's case, prompting a rematch with Ryou. Fujiwara assented, and found himself fighting with a passion that only came when duelling a strong opponent.

He didn't think, after The Agent of Judgement: Saturn departed the field after its victorious effect, that he could have been surprised if he lost. Nor was he surprised, at a later date, to lose against Fubuki's dragons.

'You weren't duelling properly,' the brunet complained.

'I assure you I was,' Fujiwara replied.

'Heh.' Fubuki shrugged. 'Go figure; I still haven't defeated Ryou yet.' Somewhere along the line, Fubuki had decided they were close enough to forgo formality.

( - )

Somehow, the pages of old research struck him with panic. Maybe because he had been doing less and less, getting caught up with the festives around the Academia, or with Ryou and Fubuki…but then he would go to bed, mind still fresh, and dream. Dream of darkness and tears and loneliness, and a light edging away from him.

He wasn't a child anymore. An angel wouldn't be enough to light up the world.

( - )

'And Gina and I are going to hang out at the beach tomorrow…'

Fujiwara half-heartedly listened to Fubuki's plans for his date. In all honesty, he had never thought to do so himself, and judging from the look on his face, Ryou had not either. Fubuki on the other hand seemed reasonably at ease, talking about this Obelisk girl whose face that Fujiwara found himself unable to recall.

The next day found Fubuki late to meet up with them.

'How was your date?' Fujiwara asked. It was merely an act of politeness; he didn't really want to know.

Fubuki had caught something in his tone, because he replied: 'I really didn't mean to be late.' And his voice was so sincere that no-one could really doubt him.

But that wasn't what was bothering Fujiwara.

( - )

They went home for the break. Both Ryou and Fubuki. Both had younger siblings apparently, as well as their parents. Fujiwara stayed at the academy; there was nothing waiting for him at home at all. Except maybe dust piling up.

So he stayed at the academy, suddenly feeling extremely lonely.

( - )

Fujiwara was well aware the world did not revolve around him, but still it hurt to listen to stories that he had no place in. Worse was that he had none to share himself, and he found it easier to listen without attention, falling back into his old routine of researching relentlessly.

Fubuki pulled him away from time to time, but Fujiwara wasn't the only existence in the other's life. Ryou was a different sort of distraction: he was quieter, more serious and sometimes his stare was enough to make one stop what they were doing. It was also probing, and so it was no wonder they caught on to the path his fervour was taking him.

He himself didn't catch on until it was too late. He'd built a new wall, after the old one had crumbled under battement. A way to not feel loneliness, or the pain of losing people. A way in which he would feel nothing, in which he would simply…forget.

He could hear Honest crying when he sealed it in a box and hid it away, but he shut his heart to it. When he tore the photos down from his board, he felt nothing at all.

And soon, he would become nothing.

( - )

The mask was like a drug; for a fleeting moment, he wanted never to take it off. But he remembered his research. What lay beyond that mask. Within that circle, with just a little more…

There were footsteps. A voice, yelling towards him. Already, he had trouble placing a name, a face…but he still remembered, even with the mask.

'Fubuki.'

The mask easily came off.

'Don't…'

The door opened.

'Sorry for bringing you into this.' And the apology was heartfelt, sincere. He was tearing something valuable away, but already it felt like a hollow wound being soothed over… 'I will become one with Darkness.'

A slight smile spread across his face. His heart felt lighter, freer.

_So this is what it felt like to release your soul…_

'Farewell…Fubuki...'

( - )


End file.
